death
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sylvia’s hair
Her hair in a box decapitated like her thumb top was what memories does that hair hold? Sunny days in the water off Nauset perhaps and sharks washing up in yards after hurricanes or that toe big as a Frisco seal? This cut is a bloodless beheading and I stare in fascination a member of… Continue reading
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I fell in love
I fell in love with an older man (he 40, me 19) many years ago. He was an intinerant teacher, with an artists’ soul. It seemed he was driven by something deeper than I could ever understand, with a deep seated sadness that I now understand comes from being worn out by life, perhaps not… Continue reading
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cat
the magic black cat laid upon my bed prognosticating a long journey into the darkness or maybe we only think opaqueness is dark looming as a ship used to believe the curve of the Earth’s horizon was the edge how many times do we ask the opaque curtain what lies beyond only the cat who… Continue reading
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the interminable road
For GJFlife goes on full stoptime lies to meI wander aimlessly in ablack soul abyssa walking shadow,myspan a shadecolors dissipated run through sieve never returned gone his boyishnessreduced to flat and black and whitefifteen years todaymy world was silenced foreverbirthdays come and fade like winter grassand do not grow again in springthey arrive flatlythey are… Continue reading
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crossroads
“Since then ‘t is centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses’ heads Were toward eternity.”– emily dickinson at the end, the precipice.no signs forward no signs backno bridge overno wings to flyonly wide open black space descendingdown away from the sky Then a movement in the wind catches my… Continue reading
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the quiet current rages below
stillness, the stillnessa new silence that descendsin darknessand space, spacethat moves among usinvisibilityit is the uneaten foodthe empty platethe unused shoesthe too big bedthe listless clothes unwornthat hang on one side of the closetthe wife, now widowedthe husband without wifethe unanswered questionsthe where of Godthe words unspokenthe love that still livesendlesslythe stillness, the stillness© diane… Continue reading
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time
I have no time, she says, pouring water for dishes in the sink years of time washing over her flitting memory-movies in her brain Gone like water. Time weighed on Sylvia Plath and washing dishes she knows what that feels like knows the feeling of heads in ovens knows the almost relief of vacations to… Continue reading
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keening
there they flit across the stage those dancers i always wanted to be degas is calling across the years but he has painted out the pain the ugliness of the feet in satin slippers they make you forget, the satin shoes that covers a multitude of callouses built up over years blunting the pain of… Continue reading
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spirit and decline
beautiful, like the northern lights not long for this world, weaving and undulating in the night we danced each moment a memory as the realest things are, pouring through my fingers liquid fire and ice a light in the darkness, a candle flickering, green and yellow wanagi wacipi I would follow the lighted pathway, if… Continue reading
About Me
poet, diarist, writer, teacher, woman, fragile, strong, northern life is my domicile, my barbaric yawp exudes against the tide
Diary of an American 